The Daraja Academy seniors are currently on campus studying for the KCSE, a test each high school student must take at the end of their secondary school career.  The younger students, however, have been home for a few weeks now. One of Daraja’s very own interns, Ashley Nicole Johnson, reflects on her visit to Form 3 student Irene’s home.

“Daraja means bridge, and I am Daraja.”

Ireen’s sister, Purity, in front of her family’s home

It took me some time to figure out how that applied to me personally. I feel a part of Daraja by living in this amazing place with these incredible girls. I am inspired daily by their perseverance, their drive, their will to succeed and what seems like an effortless ability to be present and happy in each moment at Daraja. When I first got to Daraja as an intern, I read through each girls’ application to gain perspective about who the Daraja girls were, but it wasn’t until a home visit with a Form 3 that personal experience could fill in the blanks of my research.

6 hours, 3 matatu rides, and a 4.5 mile walk at night in the rain down a muddy, dirt path, and I found myself in the company of Irene, Leah (another Daraja intern), and Irene’s family. 12 of us squeezed into a small, one room banda that served as kitchen, living room, dining room, and bedroom. We presented the family with flour and rice as a thank you for welcoming us into their home, which they literally did with open arms, despite our soaking wet and muddy arrival. Mama Irene, as we called her, prepared ugali and cabbage in the corner of the banda as Irene told Leah and I about her Daraja story.

Irene & her sister, Purity, show me how they fetch water for their family

“I finished class 8 and I wanted very much to continue to secondary school,” Irene said. “But I have eight siblings, and our family does not make enough with our crops to pay for secondary school fees.” Irene’s brother heard a rumor that a new school, albeit very far away, was looking for girls with high marks from primary school. Determined to help her daughter continue school, Mama Irene sought out more information through anyone she could that might have more information about Daraja. After inquiries and a long, first time journey to Nanyuki, Irene was given an interview, and accepted into the Daraja Academy.

“I am thankful for Daraja every day,” Mama Irene said as she stuck more kindling under the fire for the food to cook. Mama Irene looked at us, smiled, and waved her arm toward the small window as she said, “Irene will finish school, and she will come back home and help change this village, these roads, our family. Everything will be better because of Daraja.”

Irene showed us her primary school, took us around her village, and introduced us to her father, her uncle, sisters, nieces, nephews, and neighbors, none of whom had more than an 8thgrade education. We followed her 15 minutes away from her banda to the local watering hole to fetch water for her family, as is a regular chore for her when home.

Irene’s sister, Doreen, and niece, Gloria

“If I had not been accepted into Daraja,” Irene said as she pulled water up from deep underground. “I would be here. I would be helping raise children, helping with the crops, unable to go to secondary school to finish my education. I am very thankful to be a Daraja girl. Very thankful.”

As we prepared to depart back to Daraja, each member of Irene’s family held me in a tight embrace, thanking me for being a part of her education, a part of her future. I thanked them in return, for letting us be a part of Irene’s life, for sharing their beautiful daughter with us and the greater Daraja family.

When I said good-bye to Irene, I hugged her extra tight. I told her to study hard during break, enjoy the time with her family, and to be vigilant about her safety until her return to Daraja. I felt overwhelmed with gratitude to have been able to meet her family and walk several miles in her shoes for perspective. In that moment, I knew exactly what it meant to be Daraja. It meant being a part of Irene’s transition from a girl to a young woman, filling in for pivotal roles such as her sister, her mother, her mentor and friend when her family is so far away. It meant being a part of shaping the young women at Daraja that families and communities are counting on to return home and create positive change. Daraja is the bridge between hope and reality for the future leaders of Kenya, and I am Daraja. We are Daraja.

With Irene’s family